


Ghosts

by indigostarchild



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, selective mutism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 09:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11941641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigostarchild/pseuds/indigostarchild
Summary: Link wakes up and finds only ghosts.





	Ghosts

The first thing Link had felt when he emerged from the Shrine of Resurrection was awe. It rushed up through him from the tips of his toes to the top of his spine. The world spread out before him was vast and beautiful, the sky an endless expanse of blue above him. The wind pushed and pulled at him as he stood rooted on the edge of the cliff. He took a deep breath and sighed, enjoying the fresh air that hadn’t reached inside the stale shrine. The castle on the horizon caught his eye, dark and angry like a fresh bruise. The place seemed to eat away at the bright sunlight around it like a creature starved. Something fluttered in his stomach and he frowned. His instincts told him that place was evil, and he decided to avoid it.

Another feeling suddenly sunk its teeth into him and Link recoiled. It clawed at his heart and dripped down through his insides cold as ice. Something was… wrong. A flash of this same landscape covered in farmland, the rolling hills covered in patches of crops like some great giant had rolled a green and golden quilt over the earth. The castle shown in the distance like a jewel, and the roads were dotted with travelers. Link grasped desperately at the memory for more but it was already fading.

Where were all the farmhouses? Where was everyone? Had he really been asleep for 100 years?

Link’s lungs squeezed and he finally placed the feeling. Loneliness. A horrible thought struck him. Had he been asleep for so long that everyone was gone? He looked around desperately, searching for any signs of civilization. When he spotted smoke close by he gasped in relief, immediately heading towards it. Whoever was there could tell him what was going on. Maybe then his memory would clear up, and everything would be fine.

Link trusted the old man he found at the source of the smoke. His eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, and he offered Link helpful advice. Link wasn’t able to get much information out of him though, even though the old man understood signs perfectly well. He didn’t press the old man further as he didn’t want to offend the only living soul for miles around. The man was oddly cryptic, but Link chocked it up to old age and an odd sense of humor.

Knowing he wasn’t alone in the world returned Link’s confidence and he set about exploring the area. He was immediately drawn to the forest. It was peaceful among the trees. Some places would cause memories like ghosts to flit along the edge of his consciousness, but they darted off before he could pin them down. His memories were painfully like the deer that made their home in these forests; infrequent, and terribly skittish. He tried to remember faces, names, anything, but all he got was ghosts of thoughts. Names on the tip of his tongue, blurry faces he might have only dreamed or imagined. He was frustrated with his broken memory and took it out on any monster foolish enough to cross his path. Despite not remembering any combat he dispatched the monsters he stumbled upon with ease. Too much ease for someone who wasn’t once a warrior. He was unnaturally good with a sword, and the worn grip of a rusted blade felt right in his hand. He realized with a start that his muscles remembered what he did not. It gave him some small comfort that at least his body seemed to remember itself, even if the scars that ached on rainy days stirred no memories in his mind. On one such rainy day Link sat by the cooking fire near the old man’s cabin and studied his hands. He traced over callouses he didn’t remember earning, and wondered at the dozen little scars over his fingers and palms. He felt a longing for someone to tell him about those marks. He wanted someone to tell him all the stories he'd forgotten about himself.

When the old man turned out to be a ghost, the former king of Hyrule no less, Link was more than a little distressed. How could he be ghost?! He’d seen the man eat a meal and get soaked in the rain and chop down a tree for Hylia’s sake! He knew rationally that he should be more concerned about the monster Ganon and the princess Zelda, but the fear of being alone in the world wasn’t a rational one. It rose up in him like a full moon tide as he thought of living solely in the company of deer and koroks for the rest of his days, wandering through the woods like a ghost himself. It receded to be replaced by hope moments later when the King mentioned a village. Kakariko Village far to east. Link felt as though the name should be familiar, but it rang no bells. He set out for it immediately, the image of Calamity Ganon raging above Hyrule Castle still fresh in his mind. There were still people left to protect, he just had to find them.

After miles and miles of nothing but dismal ruins and pig-faced monsters Link’s hope began to falter. He checked his map near obsessively, making sure he was still headed toward the glowing dot that seemed so incredibly far away. Why hadn’t he seen anyone yet? After having spent the whole day walking and fighting his feet were sore and his muscles ached. The sun was low on the horizon and he knew he should make camp for the night soon. He spotted smoke in the distance and tried not to get too excited. The last two fires had only turned out to be gangs of monsters, and he had several new bruises and cuts as mementos. As Link got closer he made his way over a worn stone bridge, and he wondered how the whole thing hadn’t just collapsed into the flowing water years ago. He was careful to watch his footing on the unstable ground, and when he looked up again the fire was close. A little shelter stood over it, and there was the unmistakable silhouette of a person beside the flames.

Link let out an excited noise and broke into a run, nearly falling over loose stones and only slowing when he was short of breath. The man by the fire had noticed him and looked up, seeming unsurprised by his arrival. He looked somewhere in his 30′s and was surprisingly tidy looking in appearance for someone camping out the the wilderness. Link asked him if he was ghost, but the man just stared at him. Link signed the question again, slower.

“Mm I don’t understand.” The man said, not unkindly. He pats the ground next to him. “You are welcome to join me here by the fire though. It’s been a while since I’ve had any company.”

Link, more than a little dismayed the man can’t understand him, takes the offered spot by the fire. The warmth feels good on his sore body, and he’s relieved to be off his aching feet. He sets a few apples next to the coals to cook. Absentmindedly he re-ties his hair as he gets comfortable.

“So where did you come from?”

Link points back towards the plateau, and watches the man’s eyebrows raise.

“No one really goes up there anymore, it’s an abandoned place. Not to mention the walls are too high to scale. At least, I thought they were, but you managed somehow. Were you looking for treasure?”

‘Maybe’ Link wobbles his hands, and the man nods but doesn’t press further.

Link points at him, eyebrows raised in question.

“Me? I’m Brigo. I patrol this bridge and chase off any monsters I see. Someone’s gotta keep the bridge safe for the travelers that come through here. You should stop by Dueling Peaks stable on your way to wherever you’re going, they can give you directions. If you keep to this road and head past that big tower and those two mountains, you’ll get there in about a day.”

Link nods and pokes at the apples, which seem almost done. He’s glad for the confirmation that he’s going the right way, since his slate is both outdated and mostly blank and he’d received the information from a 100 year old ghost. Not exactly reassuring. The pair lapse into comfortable silence and listen as the crickets pick up their evening song. When the baked apples are done Link offers one to his companion and receives a handful of roasted acorns in return. They eat quietly as the moon rises and Link’s fairly certain this guy Brigo is a real living person. He hasn’t said anything cryptic yet or disappeared into blue sparks. The man recounts stories of his recent endeavors protecting the bridge as he cleans his battered sword, and Link nods along. He’s fairly certain no ghost would be scraping by as a vigilante protecting a crumbling bridge purely for the well being of travelers.

The knot around Link’s heart loosens as he realizes that the man next to him is really flesh and blood. Brigo’s ancestors survived the calamity and the proof is in the man here beside Link, sitting on the same ground and breathing the same air. Alive. Someone who cares enough to fight, and to protect. Living day by day. He sighs in relief, and as though in response Brigo yawns loudly. Link falls asleep by the fire with renewed courage like golden amour around his heart, and for the first time since he has awoken he is not afraid.


End file.
